Good Night
by xxRandomFangirlingxx
Summary: I wish I could have said sorry for all the horrible things I'd done and said. Now I can't, and it's all my fault. -Kyman- Warning: Character death. R&R would be greatly appreciated!


**Just a little one shot kinda thing that I've been thinking about for a while. It's short, but I hope you'll enjoy!**

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Two whole months now.

He's still in the hospital. It's been the same for two months. They said he won't live much longer. So here I am - Sunday afternoon, around seven o' clock, sitting in one of the most depressing places to be - a hospital.

The doctors said he'd be ready to leave in a few weeks, not months. I don't know what went wrong, all I know is that I could have prevented it.

And I don't know what his illness is - all I know is that it was probably my fault somewhere along the way.

I used to laugh when he said that he wasn't well. When he didn't turn up at school, I'd tell everyone he was a liar. I really regret all the shouting, insults, swearing, violence and just being a crap friend. I regret it all. If I'd just been a nicer person, maybe I would have realised I was the one getting in the way of any kind of friendship we could have had.

But now, well now I'm reduced to this.

Sat down beside him, squeezing his fragile hand and sobbing pathetically like the stupid piece of shit that I am. God; what kind of a friend am I?  
Letting him lay here in the hospital and letting his own life just fade away with the beeps on the heart rate machine? Yes, that's what kind of a friend I am. An excuse for a friend. And I hate that. The fact that now, he could die and I wouldn't of had the chance to tell him I'm sorry for all the constant insults I've thrown at him, shouting, fighting and arguing pointlessly, and finding arguments in everything just so I could let my anger out on him.

If I did ever get the chance to tell him that, I'm sure he would accept my apology. Maybe even smile at me. Something that I've never been able to experience. A smile from him. All the time it's been me who's provoked his anger. And with that I come back to this point: I'm a shit friend.

What are the chances though? The chance that I could say sorry? Not much, I'd probably give myself a million to one chance. Because that machine is slowing down; the beeps more spaced out.

Oh, how pathetic I must look now. Real tears rolling down my face and onto the sheets. I've never cried like this before - well, not that I can remember.  
I've never cried for someone, that's for sure. If I did cry, it would be because of something that I'm the centre of. But I don't know why I'm crying for him - I hate him, don't I?

I've gotta stop thinking about that. Stop thinking about what our friendship could have been. It's already hard enough to accept the fact that he's going to die without knowing that I'm sorry from the bottom of my heart.

Maybe if I did get the chance to say that, he might just tell me to get the fuck away from him. Tell me I'm evil, that I have no soul - I wouldn't be able to argue back, I wouldn't allow myself to. Seeing him in this situation has altered my view on everything. It's made me regret all the things I've said or done to him.

I can already feel him fading away - the beeping is going to stop any minute now, I can almost sense it.

And it's because of that thought that's making even more tears fall down my already tear stained cheeks. I nuzzle my face up to his hand and continue to sulk.

"It's all my fault."

Gripping tighter and laying a gentle kiss on his delicate hand. I'm still crying, and the tears are still falling. The realisation is setting in. I can't say anything that would mean anything to him now. He's fading away.

"I'm so sorry Kahl."

I should have told him that. And one other thing.

"Kahl...Kahl, I love you."

Lifting up my head, I smile hopefully. I move my face closer to his and kiss him lightly on the cheek. I wish I could have done this sooner, tell him my feelings.

He's not going to last much longer. Oh God, I can't live without him. I don't want him to die any more - I've said before that I wanted him to. But now, why can't he live?

Streams of tears roll down my face. This is how it's going to end. I guess it's quite fitting for me - I've always been a total idiot to him, this is what I get.  
He's going to die.

I grip his hand tighter. His heart beat is fading quickly.

"Good night, Kahl."

And I can't help but feel like he squeezed my hand back.

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**(: Thank you for reading! :)**


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